


The Apple and His Snakes

by Winter_Pior



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Dream Sex, Ghost Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Treebros, Wet Dream, if you were expecting the same love and care I put into Fawned please look away, inflation caused by copious amounts of jizz, it's imagined Connor, kind of, lowkey inflation?, screw your smutfic this is hentaific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25255411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Pior/pseuds/Winter_Pior
Summary: Evan dreams about his imagined version of Connor and tentacles read the tags
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 106





	The Apple and His Snakes

There’s a million different directions to go, maybe, but only one path.

A row of apples marks a hidden trail, and Evan already has a pit in his stomach. He doesn’t want to know where they lead, but he follows regardless. He doesn’t feel as if he’s been given much of a choice. Each time he passes what he assumes is the last, another fades in from the darkness. 

He wonders if he’s stuck in a loop. If this is his subconscious’ way of cycling through the stories and lies he’s spun. 

He’ll never want to look at another damn apple again after this.

_“Aww, what about my orchard?”_

Evan stops in his tracks, frozen stiff. 

It seemed to come from his own head, resonating and bouncing back from the nothingness around him. But the voice was not his own.

It's as if, suddenly, he can't trust his own two feet or the Nothingness to hold him up. His sense of balance shatters, and as he scrambles for some kind of stability, he spins to face a new scene.

A tree had materialized from the darkness, vibrant and luminous, with a small patch of grass at its base.

Another apple falls from a low hanging branch and into a pale, spindly hand.

“Hey, puddin.”

Even in his dream, Evan doesn’t want to believe what he’s seeing. “Connor?”

He smirks and takes a bite from his apple, casually propped against the trunk of the tree and nearly as tall. “Who were you expecting? My sister?”

It’s enough to put some warmth back in Evan’s face. “ _N-No.”_

Even in his dreams, he’s a coward. He tries to avoid Connor’s gaze, but all that’s left to look at is pitch black. No indistinguishable walls or floors. He might even be floating.

And that means he could fall at any moment.

He closes his eyes and dares to throw himself at the patch of grass Connor stands upon. Miraculously, it’s sturdy.

“Is this your plan?” Connor asks, “To use me to fall back on for the rest of your life?”

Evan’s hands grip the base of the tree, and he presses his cheek against the rough bark. “That’s not—" he stammers, “I didn’t mean—“ 

“Well, of course you didn’t _mean_ it—“ He sounds too sympathetic to be genuine, and Evan can’t help but shrink away as Connor squats beside him. He takes another bite of his apple. “You wanted to make some folks happy, so you told them what they wanted to hear, right?”

Evan spares a glance, finding his expression has softened. “R-Right..?”

Connor nods his head, still chewing thoughtfully. “Sure, they were heartbroken enough, but so were you. They’re a family who needs a boy, and you’re a boy who needs a family.”

Evan scratches at a piece of bark and starts picking. His seed of guilt continues to grow. He knows this is his brain rationalizing his behavior, but how fucked of him that his subconscious would interpret it like this. “I’m sorry.”

Connor deadpans. “What for?”

“They’re not my family,” Evan rasps, hugging the tree tighter, “That I— I’m selfish. And I can’t replace you. I shouldn’t…”

Connor snaps the apple to his other hand. “But you did.”

“I know, I’m—“

“So you admit it? You replaced me.”

The area where Evan’s heart should’ve been began to feel even more hollow. “W-Wait—“

Connor shrugs. “Shit, at least you can recognize it. I’m sure they’d do the same thing if I was still kicking. Too bad we didn’t actually become friends sooner. Maybe then I wouldn’t have killed myself.”

It was only a dream. A dream that, when Evan woke up, there’d be no consequences from. Connor could tell him anything he wanted, but that was it. Connor couldn’t physically hurt him.

Evan had nothing to lose by springing up and slapping a hand over the other’s mouth. “ _Please,_ ” he begs him, “Please _stop_.”

Connor’s brows furrow as he glances down at Evan’s hand, then back up at him. 

Somewhat to Evan’s surprise, he doesn’t lick or bite. He doesn’t resist.

Exhaling a rattled breath, Evan slowly retracts the hand. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I wish I would’ve gotten to know you sooner. I wish I could’ve saved you. I’m not trying to replace you, a-and I don’t want to! I just wanted to...take some of that hurt away from them. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I’m _sorry, Connor_.”

For a moment, all the apparition does is stare, and Evan wonders if he’s short-circuited his own conscience. At least, for those few seconds, he feels at ease.

And then Connor says, bluntly, “You owe me.”

Evan can’t disagree. “I do—" He nods— “I-I’ll stop with the e-mails, I’ll...I’ll try to see them as little as possible.”

Connor shakes his head. “No. Forget that. It’s too late for that.”

Once again, Evan’s blood runs cold. “Okay,” he says reluctantly, “Then...what?”

Connor pulls himself to his feet and holds a hand out to Evan.

Hesitating, he accepts.

“I think,” Connor muses, “You owe _me_ a distraction from being trapped inside your head—“ He taps at his temple— “It’s a boring, lonely place in here.”

Evan gulps, chewing at the inside of his cheek. It’s an insult, probably, but it’s earned. “I’m sorry...”

“Do you want to make it up to me?”

Evan balances himself once again against the tree, nodding quickly. He cracks his knuckles.

“What are you willing to do?”

Evan considers it. They’re surrounded by nothing. What is there he can do? He shrugs weakly. “Anything..?”

A small curl returns to Connor’s lips, and he tilts his head. “Anything?”

It takes him repeating it for Evan’s mind to fill with ways of Making It Up To Him outside of his dreamscape. His heart begins to race, and again, his legs feel weak. “As long as I don’t...hurt anyone...or myself…”

This makes Connor snort, his smirk broadening. “Fuck no. You hurting yourself would only make it worse.” Lightly, he kicks at Evan’s shin, and that makes the boy’s knees buckle. With his non-apple-holding hand, he grabs Evan’s chin, demanding his gaze. “I want,” he purrs, “to have fucking fun for once.”

Evan thought Connor couldn’t hurt him, but now he’s grabbing him and it feels real. He’s staring him down, and he’s sure he should be afraid - and maybe he is stunned because he can’t pull away. He can look at his piercing blue eyes, or he can look at his lips. 

He owes Connor Murphy.

Just as he’s about to close his eyes and lean in, Evan yelps, nearly jumping out of his skin and into Connor’s arms. Something wraps around his ankles, and as Connor lets go of his chin, he can finally look down. 

They look like snakes, black with an iridescent shimmer. 

He tries to shout, but it’s a dream, and in dreams you can never properly cry for help. He clings to the tree for dear life and desperately tries thrashing his legs free. “C-Connor—!”

“Calm down.” His grin is wicked as he speaks, and Evan thinks his teeth are maybe sharper than they ought to be. “They won’t do anything I don’t tell them to do.”

It doesn’t keep him from hyperventilating, nor does it prevent him from choking on his words.

There’s a rustling in the leaves overhead, and Evan watches in fear and amazement as more of the creatures slither down from the branches. He quickly realizes they’re not snakes - none of them have any sort of distinguishable face. They’re more like…

Tentacles.

His heart drops to his stomach, and his dick twitches with a sick interest.

He’s seen enough hentai to know where this is going.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought about it if you didn’t watch it,” Connor continues while two more wrap around Evan’s wrists. “I mean, I’m not judging. We pretty much have the same search history.”

Soon, Evan doesn’t need to worry about falling because the tentacles are lifting him up from the grass, suspending him in the Nothingness, and their grip is as secure as rope.

They’re materializing from the darkness like the apples and the tree, maybe, but it’s hard to tell when the most he can make out is their tantalizing shine. They’re as beautiful and erotic as they are terrifying, and Evan’s ashamed that he could already be hard at the thought of what might happen next.

His mouth, suddenly, is as dry as a desert. He licks his lips.

Connor snickers. “You look like you could use a drink.“ He snaps his fingers. “Why don’t I help with that?”

The next moment, there’s a tip of a tentacle in front of Evan’s face. It’s glistening wet, and as Evan breathes in, he’s hit with a vanilla sweet aroma that makes him more inclined. 

He opens his mouth, and it darts right in, resting on his tongue. It tastes like nothing, but the powerful scent continues to relax him, enough that his eyelids droop half-lidded, and he begins sucking, almost on instinct.

Below him, Connor watches. He’s eaten his apple to the core and tosses it to one of the tentacles.

Evan thinks he sees its tip open into a mouth, just to capture it as Connor chuckles, “This is even easier than I thought.

There’s slithering going up his legs and shivers rack his body, every hair standing on end, as Evan tries not to squirm. Seconds later, his pants and boxers are around his ankles. His face is on fire as Connor’s eyes scan him, his ass and erection on full display.

“Not bad,” the apparition coos. He tiptoes around him to get a better look from behind. He hums, and Evan shudders as he feels him spread his cheeks apart, jiggle them, and pat them lightly. “Is this where you store all your bullshit?”

He’d pout if not for the tentacle in his mouth. 

As if to remind him of its presence, it wiggles a bit, tickling his throat. He slurps up whatever the liquid is he can sense dripping from it, lapping his tongue weakly in hopes of appeasing it, hoping it means appeasing Connor.

There’s a more intent smack to his ass, and Evan squeaks as the apparition comes back into view. “I’m almost jealous of them,” he comments, snapping his fingers again, “But not jealous enough.”

Something smooth and wet and slippery glides between Evan’s cheeks, and he moans helplessly around the tentacle in his mouth. His body is turning to jello, save for his cock. It pulses as the tentacle behind him teases his hole, silently begging for attention.

Thankfully, Connor can read Evan’s mind. It isn’t long before another appendage emerges from the void, curls perfectly around his cock and pumps him at a wonderfully rhythmic speed.

He doesn’t know if he’ll last very long.

“Doesn’t matter,” Connor answers for him. His back hits the trunk of the apple tree, and Evan watches as he palms his own bulge. “You owe me. And that means you’re mine as long as I need you.”

Evan swallows, thick. He said he’d do anything.

He nearly bites down on the appendage in his mouth as the other penetrates him from behind. He’d expect it to hurt, but the only thing that overwhelms him is pleasure as it pushes deeper and deeper. 

_Why_? He tries to ask Connor telepathically, _Isn’t there more I should be doing for you?_

The apparition's eyes narrow with lust. A bit of fumbling with his zipper, and he bites his lip, revealing his cock and stroking it in time with the tentacle wrapped around Evan’s member. “I see you when you’re alone,” he responds, “And as much as you piss me off, I wanted some of that for myself. But don’t worry--” He squeezes his shaft, making Evan groan from the same pressure being applied to his own. “I can _feel_ everything.”

The way the appendage in his ass starts thrusting gives him little reason to doubt it. He whimpers, mewls, and moans but every sound is muffled by the appendage in his mouth, beginning to thrust as well. 

It’s an ebb and flow from both ends, and soon, Evan’s being carefully bounced in mid-air, the tentacles at his wrists and ankles helping him along with the motion. 

His head is spinning, his skin’s hot, and he feels full. Beyond the appendage in his mouth, all he can see is Connor, the vision of his dead classmate _jerking off_ , and he knows it’s wrong but it _feels_ so fucking right. Every nerve is on fire, inside and out. How the hell is he supposed to refuse when this is the only time and place any of this is possible?

He’s amazed he’s been able to hold out this long, simply enjoying the ride, when more tentacles begin swarming around him. They approach with serpent-like tongues, and all Evan can do is whine and watch as they slither along his legs, stomach, and backside. They lick his thighs, his balls, his buttcheeks, and two slide up his shirt to cradle his stomach and give attention to his nipples. 

His body convulses and tears prick his eyes. It’s too much now, or-- it feels that way. Because it also feels like it goes on forever, and maybe he’s reached his limit already, but the pleasure doesn’t stop.

The tentacle in his mouth slips further down his throat, and Evan’s eyes widen as he’s forced to breath rapidly through his nose. His jaw aches a little, but that doesn’t stop him from swallowing, although it occurs to him - is he swallowing the tentacle _whole_? And why can’t he stop himself?

He knows Connor is watching him, smirking, but there’s no answer.

Instead, the tentacle in his ass picks up speed, and Evan’s trembling becomes worse. He’s being shaken like a maraca, maybe, but that makes it...better? It makes it so much better. It feels so deep, and with each thrust, it strikes his prostate. He wants to cry out loud, but he’s still silenced. It doesn’t stop the tears spilling from his eyes, but he almost wants Connor to hear. He needs him to know how much he appreciates it.

_I know._ The apparition’s mouth doesn’t move, but it’s as if his voice is right in Evan’s ear. _I can hear you_.

Evan squirms and tries to angle himself as he feels something...change. At first he thinks the tentacle in his ass is writhing around, throbbing. Until he realizes, as it tries to push even deeper-

It’s getting bigger.

“ _Mmh!!”_

It almost feels like a balloon inflating inside of his ass, pressing his prostate incessantly like a button and not letting go. As if to offer some relief, the tentacle wrapped around his cock pumps him faster, and the serpent tongues slick every inch of his skin. 

Connor, with sweat-slicked hair covering half of his face, panting, pauses long enough to snap his fingers once again.

Evan’s insides immediately flood with warmth, both from his throat and from his lower end. He cums instantaneously, eyes rolling back, shivering and seizing as the tentacles inside of him continue with their loads. 

The first thing he can comprehend other than warmth is how much... _heavier_ he feels. He tries to look down.

It doesn’t take much to notice his stomach expanding, round and smooth as if he’d been pregnant for months, happening in seconds.

...Had Connor impregnated him?

_The fuck do you think this is? Rosemary’s Baby? You’re not pregnant._

He whimpers and inhales the rest of the thick, salty liquid in his throat. It’s a dream. He can’t get pregnant. 

The tentacle in his mouth is the first to pull out, leaving Evan gasping for breath, his stomach rumbling at the loss. The one in his ass follows after, and Evan can sense his lip quiver at the renewed emptiness. There’s a trickle down both of his thighs.

Finally, the tentacles holding him up slowly lower him to Connor’s feet, positioned on his knees. 

He’s ready and willing to slump face-first into the apparition’s crotch, but before he can, there’s a hand in his hair, tilting his head back. He lets his mouth hang open as Connor aims his cock, and seconds later, spills his seed onto Evan’s face and tongue.

When he’s milked himself dry and steadied his breath, he brushes his hair back and strokes Evan’s cheek. “That was fucking good.”

Evan forces a smile, leaning into his touch. “D-Did I make you happy..?”

Connor chuckles low in his throat and pats his head. “Very.” He sinks down to the grass, guiding Evan’s head to his lap. 

Nimble fingers comb through his hair, and the boy sighs, closing his eyes.

“Time to wake up, Ev.”


End file.
